run the world [fem!larry]

prologue

TAGS:
fem!direction, cisgirl!louis, cisgirl!harry everyone is a cisgirl, superheroes, zayn is in this, post-cancer character, fluff, angst, time-skips, feminism, boys r dicks

WARNINGS:
this fic includes superhero-typical violence, homophobic remarks, attempted rape mentions, and cursing. read at your own risk.

PRESENT

If there is one thing that Louis is absolutely certain of, it's the fact that she was never meant to become a hero.

Girls like her that have an angry red-streak and a penchant for stealing the wallets out of old men's pockets are definitely not supposed to have any sort of productive talents other than maybe being able to make license plates while stuck in some dreary prison that's less like Orange is the New Black and more like the Shawshank Redemption. She has always been that person that was openly detested by everyone and she loved it. She loved the animosity and being able to spout off shit at girl's that wore too much make-up and always smelled like the overly-sweet-weird-fruit-scented lotions that her little sister always loved to sample at Bath and Bodyworks. Louis is a resident bad-arse that was never supposed to have any direction in life, but that all quickly changed in the span of one treatment for cancer and a shitty stay at an all-girl's boarding school grouped with a copious amount of lesbian moments that was enough to forever provide material for her wank bank.

And, sure, perhaps she should be eternally grateful for the fact that some shining brand of destiny decided to smile down on her and grant her with not only the chance to survive motherfucking brain cancer and she also got some weird, radiation-induced superpower because of it. But she can't help but think that the person that orchestrates fate (whoever that is, Louis' best guess is that her entire life has been dictated by some Michael Bay wannabe) made a massive mistake while handing out powers. Like, who in their right mind would give a girl that has a lot of pent-up anger and daddy issues the ability to make things explode with a punch of her fists?

But, even though she tried to use her powers for good and she even dutifully went along with Management's idiotic training schedules, she still never felt like a hero. And that's probably why she is in the situation that she's in right now.

"Listen, lads," Louis says sweetly, hands moving against the restraints that are clasped tightly behind her wrists. "While I would love to stay and chat, I do have things to tend to."

The man that's sitting across the cold, gray table in front of her blinks dispassionately, hand dropping the pen that's poised between his long fingers as he nods in a minuscule motion towards the man behind her. Louis sits up a bit straighter as she listens to the sound of footsteps behind her, preparing herself for whatever is bound to happen next. She's just about to swing her head backwards to hopefully connect with the person's stomach when there is a cold hand pressing a small rectangle against her neck.

A small shock zaps throughout her system and she cant help but lean forward and try to fold into herself in reaction to the pain. Someone in the dark room chuckles a bit when she starts to cough up blood, and Louis feels the familiar ripping sensation of anger tear through her veins. She forces herself to fight through the pain from the electrocution so that she can force herself to look up and directly into the brown eyes of the man in front of her. She harnesses all of her anger into one, central part of her body and brings up her leg. She stomps down on the ground, expecting for the usual sensation of an explosion reverberating from the force of the contact while she uses it to shoot herself upwards, but nothing happens. Instead, the only result is the awkward sound of her worn combat boots stomping against the uneven cement flooring and the sound of the same douchesicle laughing at her.